The prompt was to write a poem on poetry. And I did write it last night; at the stroke of midnight.
Then I read a lot of beautiful poetry of fellow participants; poems that set me thinking, that kept me awake. I’m not sure when I did fall asleep but a few hours later when I opened my eyes to the sound of the cuckoo bird, and this poem wrote itself. There was no way I could stop it. So here it is – ‘Why I write’
I lie awake on my bed
Long after the lights are out and the night is dead
And wonder why is it I write poetry-
Is it for others’ or just for me?
I see a lone star in the sky
From where, on my bed I lie-
And feel a surge of emotion
They are my master, they lead me on, I must follow their direction
In cascades they come – rumble, tumble;
Drum beats in my ear, and to myself I mumble-
Words and verses on that lone star
That watches me toss on my bed, from afar
I close my eyes; now is not the time, this is the time to rest
But they hold me ransom, this is a true master’s test
Wake up I must and let them see the light of day
Or be held captive by their wrangling; my solitude threatened; they cannot stay
Get them out on paper; I must lay them down
Doesn’t matter the order- the word, the verb, the noun
Show them to the world or not-
Doesn’t matter; but I can’t let them ferment and rot
Let them flow, let them breathe
And let them not within me seethe
For I want to be free; free, free
And this is the only way they’ll allow me to be-
So I write; words, verses and what the world calls a poem
To save me, my soul, from the brewing mayhem
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Eúnoia 
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